


Fifty Words For Murder

by iamtheleftbrain



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Connor!detective, Crime Scenes, Crimes & Criminals, Graphic Description, Graphic Description of Corpses, M/M, Markus!serialkiller, Serial Killers, Thanks, Violence, connor is hanks son, human!AU, lmao spoiler alert, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-22
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-05 17:56:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16372325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamtheleftbrain/pseuds/iamtheleftbrain
Summary: You never know who could have blood on their hands.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr plz like me: Queersturbate  
> if you know me from my old account I'm deeply sorry

Flies buzzed around the decaying, wet corpse as rain flooded the ground beneath it. Maggots bred into the festering wounds and devoured its flesh with no remorse. You could almost hear the slimy  _ shlick  _ they were making. Connor tried hard to ignore it but it invaded his mind and triggered his gag reflex. The body was found by a ‘landfill scavenger’ earlier today. The body was placed carefully on a discarded chair with a blanket covering its legs. It looked like a druggie until the scavenger got closer and saw the gruesome sight.

Not only did the trash and rotting flesh do numbers on the detective's noses, but ammonia, ether, and days old feces struck their cranial nerve like a tight guitar string. The body had been around methamphetamine production and most likely used based on the scabbed sores on its face. And it wasn’t the only drug that he was on, that was obvious. Track marks were scattered along his arms, purple and blue veins making hills onto his skin. Purple bags hung from its eyes and blood was clinging to its fingernails.

It looked like the body had been through absolute hell besides the drugs. His arms were slashed. He had bruises filling his face, a bloodied nose, and swollen lips. Even more disturbing, the back part of his skull was missing. The rain was making the body bloat. Detroit was having flash floods every day this past week and the body has been soaking the water up along with mud and the trash piles it was hidden in.

“We just confirmed his name,” Hank said, walking up to the young adult. “Nicholas Sáenz.” 

“Anything else?” Connor asked.

“He was married to Martinez Sáenz, no kids, owned a ma and pa shop.”

Connor nodded his head contently. “We need to check out the other bodies.” His voice shaking with anticipation. It was his first case as the lead homicide detective. Not only that but he was the youngest person in the station to be promoted to such a title. He was itching to succeed and impress. 

Luckily, his father, Hank Anderson, the Lieutenant, was assigned with assisting him on the case. “Yeah, we're meeting the coroner in 15 minutes. You done?” Hank asked.

Connor nodded his head, getting onto his feet. Mud dripped down his new pants.

“You drive.” Hank tossed him the keys. He hated driving in the rain and not to mention- he was a tad hungover.

  
  


Two lifeless bodies were formally placed onto the metal tables for the examination. Arms and legs completely straight. Connor and Hank immediately noticed the air in the room was still and frigid. Connor was sure it was cold enough to see his breath. He tried to cover up the temperature attacking his fingertips by putting on his latex gloves but, obviously, that didn't help much. 

A woman stood over one of the bodies, a flashlight and tweezers digging into the gash in the brain. She hadn't noticed the door slide open and shut, or the four pair of wet shoes squeaking on the tile floor. She didn't even respond to Hank clearing his throat. She was engulfed in her work, humming some old pop song.

Eventually, Hank tapped her on the shoulder. She whipped around, the flashlight and tweezers now weaponized. “Oh. Anderson.” She relaxed when she saw Hank's familiar, bushy face. “You scared me half to death. Of course, I knew you were coming but still. You could’ve been more careful approaching me. You know how I get and not- Who's this?” Her voice squeaked and her brain went faster than her mouth. She was wide-eyed at Hank's younger partner. 

“Connor Anderson. I'm the lead homicide detective,” He said as he tried his best to smile...

“Oh, pleased to meet you. Your dad has made quite a high standard for you. I'm Dr. Daniels. The only good coroner in Detroit. Anyways, come, come, come. Got your gloves? Good.” She moved aside to present the bodies. “This is James Rodgers and Andrew Wheeler.” 

As the men inspected she quickly gave them her whole spiel. The victims died of blunt force trauma by the suspect punching the back of their heads, taking a chunk out. The skull fragments and repeated blows turned their brain to mush. Which is jarring in on itself, but they, also, had track marks and smelled of ammonia and ether. Meth and heroin weren't the only things in their system, according to Dr. Daniels. Red ice was found as well, along with two muscle relaxers, oxycodone, and a nerve killer. However, Daniels pointed out all of these drugs were only in their systems after they were reported missing.

“So they were drugged?” Connor asked. He had his pointer finger and thumb on one the victim's chin, opening their mouth to look at how healthy his teeth were.

“Legal marijuana was the only thing in their system before being kidnapped. There were only small, almost unnoticeable traces of it when I found it,” She said. 

“All of them?” Hank asked.

She nodded her head, checking her clipboard again for any additional notes she might have missed. 

“All male, early 20’s, two married, one gay, and one barely out of high school. Black, white, and Hispanic. All smoked,” Hank scratched his salt and pepper beard- more salt than pepper- “Clearly, drugs are the trigger for the guy. They're all different.

“The way of killing… No other weapon except fists and drugs. It's barbaric- it's _ angry _ . It takes an abnormal amount of anger and strength to bash a man's head in,” Connor pointed out.

“Do you think he knew the victims?” Hank grabbed the folder out of Daniels’ hands. He skimmed through it quickly. 

“Possibly. That might’ve been why he was so violent with them. It was personal.” 

“Mhm. Where did you say the latest victim was last seen?” 

“Yolanda's. The diner a couple of blocks away.” 

  
  
  


Yolanda's diner smells like it hasn't been open in years. Connor immediately started sneezing from all the dust circling them and infiltrating his nose. He tried to keep his breathing to a minimum. The two detectives waited patiently in the seemingly abandoned diner- despite the  _ OPEN! _ sign out front. No employees or customers for 10 minutes. Strange for the middle of rush hour.

“Hello?!” Hank yelled.

A bang echoed the diner. “Fuck…Be right with you!” A disembodied voice came from the kitchen. Footsteps hurried on the checkered tile. A tall man stepped out on the archway with a fake, polite smile. It was obvious he liked the no customers thing he had going on. 

“Sit wherever you'd like. Can I get you guys something to drink?” The man asked. The one thing you'd notice about him right off the bat is the heterochromia. One blue eye and one green. He had a few freckles laying across his cheeks and nose. You had to really look to see them. Which Connor was- intently and  _ contently _ . The man was very, very pleasing to look at. Not too muscular, not too skinny. Warm olive skin that looked soft and dewy from sweat. 

“Connor! Wake the fuck up!” Hank pushed Connor's shoulder. He had enough of the staring contest the two young men were having. 

“Uh, I'll take a lemonade,” Connor said. Heat rose to his cheeks as the man smiled sympathetically. The man whisked himself away, looking somewhat swooned from Connor's embarrassment. 

Connor groaned and put his head in his hands when he was sure the handsome man wasn't watching. Hank nudged him and chuckled at his son's embarrassment. “It wasn't  _ that _ bad,” Hank giggled. 

The two sat in silence as Connor focused on pulling his strings back together. This was his first case, he couldn't lose the chance to make a good impression because of some good-looking guy. He tried to think of decaying corpses and their murderer on the loose instead of the man's deep, attractive crows feet.

“What wasn't?” The man asked. His voice was light and bubbly. Connor had noticed his name tag now. Markus. It suited him, he thought. 

“Nothin’,” Hank waved him off, deciding not to embarrass his son even more. 

Markus put down their drinks and waited patiently for their order. He didn't have anything else to do. It's not like he sweeps this place or has any customers- alive. Hank made a noticeable effort not to initiate the conversation. Connor whispered some type of curse word at the table before making eye contact with their waiter. Markus beat Connor to the punch, “You a cop, Connor?” 

The young man blinked. “Detective. How could you tell?” Connor cocked his head a bit.

“Everything about you says ‘cop’.”

“He's right,” Hank said.

“Hm.” Connor cleared his throat. “We're investigating a series of homicides, and one of the victims was last seen here.” Connor's voice was dry and emotionless. He could be mistaken for an android with how serious he gets.

“Yeah, Nicholas. He and his husband are basically my only customers. Sad to hear about him.” 

“So you know?” 

“Word travels fast when you’re in the loop.” 

“Was he acting strange when he came in?” Hank cut in.

“No. Just talking about his date night.” Markus shrugged.

“Did you see where he went after he left?” Connor asked and jotted some things down.

“No. I was in the kitchen. Sorry.”

“...So, you got nothin’?” Hank sighed. He was wishing that this case would just whizz by like all the others. He just hopes the FBI don't catch wind of it. Last thing he needs is Perkins up his ass waving his pretty little FBI badge. Markus shook his head and smiled at Connor, who was standing, anxious to leave after the 'not-so-bad’ memory flooded back and the puppy demeanor returned. He hated losing his composure and he didn't want to see this man anymore if that's what he makes him do. He could barely stand his smile was so pristine.

“Well, we should get going. Thanks for the drinks. What do I owe ya?” Hank got out his vintage wallet, pulling out some bills. 

“I would love your partner's number as payment.” Markus leaned on the counter. He might have winked at Connor, but he couldn't focus now. All he could hear was the heartbeat in his ears and Hank's deep laughter.

“Give him your number, Con, I ain't paying him if I don't have to.” Hank chuckled, walking out of the restaurant leaving Connor with a very handsome man and his anxiety. His composure now long gone. He felt weak at the knees- like some school girl in love with an upperclassman. 

“Uhm,” Connor grabbed his notepad that had case notes on it and scribbled his number. He tore out the piece and handed it to Markus. Not saying or doing anything besides power walk out the glass door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey like if you dont like hm graphic violence dont like read this and im watching black butler so if that shows then idk bruh

****

It seemed like the entire population of Detroit had ignored the police issued curfew. People's ignorance: “Oh, that can't happen to me! I can't possibly be the statistic!” Markus thanked them for their stupidity and looked forward to their future together. He watched them from his car in the alley, behind Yolanda's. After getting rid of his latest toy, a week ago, he was  _ itching  _ to get one, but he needed to be cautious. It had been a couple days since those detectives came sniffing around. Markus was fine as long as he was able to get a date with Connor and lead him in the wrong direction. Send a handsome detective on a goose chase while maybe fucking him some, sounds perfect. He closed his eyes.

The heat blasted as the rain tapped on the car roof like a piano. Markus loved the song of the rain. It created a melancholy and creepy atmosphere. The perfect night for his plans. He liked the thought of being a stereotypical killer in an old Halloween movie...Maybe that's what he and Connor should do on their date, watch a slasher movie. He chuckled at the mundane thought.

A firm knock on the window made Markus jump out of his skin, seat belt pressed into his neck. He hadn't noticed, but he allowed his mind to swirl around the topic of Connor. He allowed some potential toys to get away… how sad. Luckily, one had come right up to him. Taken a bait Markus hadn't even laid out. Childlike amusement filled Markus’ heart like a kid on Christmas.

Markus rolled down the window a couple of inches, letting his heterochromatic eyes shine and intimidate the soon-to-be-toy. The foul aroma of B.O, alcohol, and garbage snuck their way into his heated car and infiltrated his nose. The man shook with such intensity, it made Markus squirm just watching. 

“Franklin?” The man asked. He looked about 20. He resembled Leo. With his  _ annoying  _ voice, his  _ horrendous  _ fashion choice, and his  _ fucking disgusting  _ facial features. The more the man stood there, the more he shook, the more he existed. The more Markus just wanted to kill him now. Make him scream in pain and choke out his pleads that Markus would ultimately ignore and just reach deeper for the screams of pain, but no, he had to suffer for his crimes to society- and crimes to Markus.

“Yeah, you got my money?” Markus figured Franklin was his drug dealer. The man hurried to pull out a wad of 20 dollar bills and shoved it through the slot between the window and car. Markus counted the money, just for show. 500 dollars, whatever he was buying, it was more than just a couple ounces of weed. Markus hid the cash under his seat.

“What did you want again?” Markus was hoping he had it on him. Maybe heroin or something? He only carried some of his stash when he went shopping for new toys.

“What? Stop playing dumb,” He said, “We gotta hurry. Cops are up our asses lately.” The man bounced up and down now. Markus grunted at the “ _ our _ ”. He was nothing like those foul drug dependent creatures.

“Alright.” Markus opened the car door and slid out with ease. The man backed away a little. Markus was not Franklin. “You all always make it so difficult. Truly, the scum of the earth.” Markus smiled a sick, demented smile. His teeth were pearlescent, almost glowing on his dark lips.

“What the fuck are you doing, creep?! Where's my money?!” The toy screamed, more fear than anger.

Markus pulled out the hammer he had stashed away in his inner coat pocket. He raised it just a tad higher than his own head. He didn't want to kill him- not yet- so, he had to be careful. He had things to do to him with his perfect toy! “You're going home with me!” Markus giggled, he was truly insane.

The man recognized the danger he was in, he made a run for it. Of course, he didn't get too far. Markus caught up with him with ease. He had had practice chasing after some toys that didn't want to go home with him. Markus grabbed his hood and yanked him onto the muddy ground. A traumatic, disgusting gag echoed the alley as his jacket snapped around his throat.

Tears rolled down the toy's face, cupping its ears before falling onto some trash it had landed on. It pleaded for its life. Stuff Markus had heard before. All the toy got in return was a high, maniacal laugh filling its ears and wrapping around its brain. Markus hoped that when the police finally caught up with him, he wouldn't be this pathetic. That he would go out with a bang.

Markus raised his hammer above the new toy, again. Evil and amusement in his eyes that could strike fear in the devil. Markus had a bloodlust- and this was so  _ fun.  _ Markus rained the hammer down on the toy's head. The body went limp, almost automatically. It went heavy, and blood spilled from his new head wound. It was still breathing but it was light. Markus patted the toy’s jean pockets, finding its wallet, keys, and some spare bills. Its name was Ethan Jones. Twenty Four. 150 pounds. Blah blah. Whatever- this one was perfect! Exactly like Leo. Fucking scum of the earth who deserves what Markus was about to do to them.

“I'm sorry, Ethan.” Markus put his wallet in his own pocket, “I hope you enjoy your stay with me.” He picked up the body. Steam rose up from his hot blood against the cold air. Markus smiled at it and licked his canine teeth. “I know I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> follow and talk to me tho  
> tumblr: queersturbate


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